


Smeared Lipstick, Rumpled Shirt (It's Filthy)

by preciousjisung



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Jongho wears lipstick, M/M, Mingi wears gloves, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, pure filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 09:45:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18385937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preciousjisung/pseuds/preciousjisung
Summary: Jongho squirmed, cheeks flushed, and didn’t meet his eyes. “Yes, Mingi. Your gloves. Leave them on.”





	Smeared Lipstick, Rumpled Shirt (It's Filthy)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MinBloodxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinBloodxx/gifts).



> The same friend who made me write The Cage made me write this. I blame everything on him. 
> 
> This is pure filth, be forewarned. Also, I'm terrible at writing so :')

When Mingi stepped into the apartment he shared with his boyfriend, he had already undone the top buttons of his black shirt and had his leather coat halfway down his arms. He paused, however, something catching his eye even in the low light. A coffee mug settled on the table in the living room that was just off the hall had a lipstick mark near the rim – not lipstick left by a woman, Mingi knew better than that.

No, that was left by someone else. Someone who wanted him to see it.

Mingi shrugged his coat back on and only removed his shoes and socks, making his way into their living room. His boyfriend wasn’t there, but Mingi hadn’t expected him to be – he picked up the mug and headed to their kitchen, where he wiped the lipstick off and placed the empty mug in the sink to be washed in the morning. There was still no other sign of Jongho, though Mingi imagined he knew exactly where he was.

Continuing through the apartment, Mingi stopped to remove his handguns, holsters and all, and place them on the countertop before he stepped out of the kitchen and into the hallway leading to their bedroom. Despite his boots, his footsteps weren’t loud when he made his way to the closed door and quietly turned the handle.

“Welcome home, Mingi.”

Jongho was seated on their bed, one of Mingi’s shirts falling off of his shoulder and his legs bare, as was the standard. The red lipstick, however, was not standard, and drew Mingi’s eyes like a magnet. Jongho only wore lipstick on nights when he wanted to have Mingi wrapped around his little finger, when he wanted Mingi to do something new or experiment with something.

It worked every time.

Mingi stepped inside the bedroom and shut the door, leaning against it as he studied his boyfriend. He couldn’t tell if he was wearing anything beneath the shirt or not – boxers, perhaps, but with Jongho there was no way to be certain. The carefully-applied red lipstick and the shirt that exposed collarbone and throat were intentional, used to play to Mingi’s weaknesses.

Jongho shifted, and something tinkled on his ankles, and Mingi registered that he was wearing delicate chain jewelry on his ankles and right wrist. Most likely he’d been wearing the jewelry all day and had gotten irritated with things getting in his way, so he’d stripped any accessories off of his left wrist. Mingi had seen it happen often, and it amused him – Jongho was cute when he was irritated.

The jewelry and the oversized shirt, which was big on even Mingi, made Jongho look smaller than he was, and Mingi was certain that was also intentional. He wouldn’t call it a kink, but he loved how much smaller than him Jongho was; and Jongho knew he did. It was something that was hard to hide.

And that was why he was sure Jongho was using _that_ against him, as well.

Mingi moved to pull his gloves off (funny how he’d forgotten to do that at the door, even though they’d have kept him from getting his coat off), but Jongho made a noise in the back of his throat and Mingi, never able to deny anything his boyfriend wanted, kept them on.

“If there’s something you want, baby, you just have to ask for it,” Mingi remarked, his words a low rumble that made Jongho almost wet his lips, but he seemed to remember the lipstick at the last moment and swallowed instead.

“Come here, for one,” he answered, scrambling further back on the bed and parting his legs invitingly. Mouth dry, Mingi followed him, crowding into Jongho’s space and pushing him down against the pillows with a hand on his shoulder and one on the bed beside him. He leaned in for a kiss, but his boyfriend turned his face away at the last moment.

“Can I kiss you?” Mingi asked, pulling away from Jongho’s soft cheek.

“Don’t you want to know what I want first?”

“Don’t tease me,” Mingi warned.

“Fuck me,” Jongho ordered, and before Mingi could say anything (most likely _I was going to do that anyway_ ) he was already following that command with another. “Don’t take off your gloves.”

Mingi blinked down at his boyfriend in confusion. “My gloves?”

Jongho squirmed, cheeks flushed, and didn’t meet his eyes. “Yes, Mingi. Your gloves. Leave them on.”

Mingi swore, low and in the back of his throat. “That’s filthy,” he murmured, pants tight. “You’re filthy.”

Jongho shivered underneath him, leaving Mingi proud of himself as he rolled off of the bed to unbuckle his gloves. “I’ll put them right back on, I just don’t want to fuck you in this coat,” he promised, sensing the impending whine. He shed his coat quickly and strapped the gloves back on, climbing back on the bed. The coat remained crumpled on the floor to be picked up or tripped on later, whichever happened first. “Now, where were we?”

Jongho tilted his head up for a kiss and Mingi obliged, taking the chance to smear Jongho’s sinful lipstick. He grabbed Jongho’s thighs as they kissed, pulling his boyfriend down so he could slot their hips together and _roll_ , swallowing sweet noises.

Jongho wasn’t, in fact, wearing boxers, and Mingi’s cock swelled.

Jongho tasted like sweet coffee – probably what he had been drinking before he put his lipstick on, or maybe even after. Remembering the smear on the coffee cup, Mingi licked the taste out of his mouth with fervor, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of his lover’s thighs hard enough to bruise. It only made Jongho moan, however, as he liked pain and he liked bruises. Mingi had had a hard time reconciling those things with Jongho’s soft face at first, but that was gone by now, replaced only by a desire to give him everything he wanted.

Mingi released one thigh and ran a hand up the inside of it, observing greedily as Jongho shuddered underneath him. His boyfriend’s legs clamped around his arm when his gloved palm dragged over a particularly sensitive point and Jongho whined, long and loud.

With a chuckle, Mingi pulled his legs apart again, moving in between them to hold them open. “Did you finger yourself?”

Jongho’s face reddened. “I… I only got to two… I wanted you to do it.”

“With my gloves on?” Mingi asked, teasing, but Jongho nodded earnestly – _frantically_. Mingi’s pants were definitely too tight and he wanted to reach down and open them, or kick them off, but he had a one-track mind, and that mind was focused on working his boyfriend open.

He pulled a bottle of lube off of their nightstand (they never moved it, retrieving it was too much of a hassle if it was anywhere else) and uncapped it – the snapping sound made Jongho look up, his expression one of anticipation when Mingi poured generous amounts over his fingers. The tall man grinned down at him as he rubbed his gloved digits together, Jongho’s cheeks flushing once again when his eyes trailed down to Mingi’s leather-covered hands.

Amused, Mingi pressed one of Jongho’s legs toward his chest. His fingers were bigger than his boyfriend’s, so he started with one, easily pressing it in to the knuckle. Beneath him, Jongho sighed, a sound of contentment.

“Another, please,” he whispered.

And how could Mingi deny that? He pulled his finger back enough to press his middle finger in alongside it, Jongho’s breathing becoming noisy and shaky. Mingi gave him time before he began to work the digits in and out, movements slow out of both caution and the desire to tease Jongho until he came. Mingi liked seeing him come undone on just his hands. Jongho was beautiful when he fell apart, and Mingi always wanted more of it. He could never get enough of his lover.

Mingi worked Jongho open on two fingers until he was begging for a third and trembling against the sheets; then he took mercy and pushed the third in, slow but sure. Jongho’s moan was unabashed, loud, filthy; Mingi grinned. He loved to hear the sounds of his boyfriend’s pleasure, and the louder the better.

Jongho rocked his hips back on Mingi’s hand, his lack of patience rearing its head. Mingi snorted at him, amused, and curled his free hand around Jongho’s dick. There wasn’t much lube on the surface of the glove, the friction of leather on skin not quite dry but not quite wet. It distracted Jongho, thrusting into Mingi’s grip rather than onto the digits spreading him open.

It amused Mingi, how easy it was to reduce Jongho to a mess underneath him. He stroked Jongho’s length slowly, matching the pace of his fingers as he started to thrust them in and out. The squelch of the lube and the leather was oddly fascinating, Mingi’s eyes drawn to how his gloved fingers sank into his boyfriend and drew back out. He stopped the motion of his hand and thumbed against Jongho’s rim, observing as it fluttered and Jongho shifted, drawing one of his knees up and his heel digging into the mattress.

“Cute,” Mingi remarked, tone conversational when he swept his thumb over the stretched flesh again. Jongho glared up at him, but a flick of Mingi’s wrist on an upward stroke had that expression melting away.

“C’mon, baby, don’t look at me like that.” Mingi nuzzled Jongho’s jaw, planting light kisses on the skin of his throat. Jongho’s lips parted like he was about to say something, but Mingi chose that moment to drive his fingers in deep again.

From the arch of Jongho’s back and the volume of his moan, Mingi had found his prostate. He focused on hitting that spot again, fucking his fingers into Jongho without mercy. He sped up the motions of his other hand, too, jerking off Jongho with fervor.

“Stop, stop!”

Mingi halted and pulled his hands away like he’d been burned. “What’s wrong?”

“I-I’m close—”

“I want you to cum,” Mingi interrupted. “Relax, Jongho.” He pushed his fingers inside again, his other hand resting on Jongho’s hip. “Let go for me.”

It didn’t take much more to push Jongho over the edge, his back arching as he cried out Mingi’s name.

He gave Jongho some time to recover before squeezing his hip, a silent question. His boyfriend thought about it for a few moments (or maybe he wasn’t even thinking, Mingi didn’t know) and made a noise in the back of his throat, spreading his legs further in a silent statement of which he wanted.

Mingi had already known Jongho would want to go another round; they never went just one. With a smug smirk, he popped open and shoved down his pants and boxers, too impatient to strip, and leaned over to once again retrieve the lube. Slicking himself up and giving his length a few languid pumps, he aligned himself with Jongho’s entrance. “Are you ready?”

“ _Yes_.”

Mingi didn’t bother to waste any more of their time, and pushed inside. He didn’t go slow, he just slid home and then waited, one hand clenched in the bedsheets and the other still on Jongho’s hip.

“Move,” Jongho finally ordered, and Mingi was all too happy to oblige. He started slow and shallow, choosing to build the intensity at his own leisure – Jongho didn’t complain, his hands wound into the bedsheets and his mouth open, letting out little breathy gasps with each of Mingi’s small thrusts. Mingi admired him; hair splayed over the pillow, his white shirt rumpled, his lipstick smeared.

Small thrusts, however, evolved into Mingi’s hips rocking forward with more and more intensity, the bed squeaking and headboard thumping against the wall with the strength of the thrusts that had Jongho crying his name. His hips slamming into Jongho’s drove his boyfriend up the bed, and Mingi moved both of his hands to grip Jongho’s hips and pull him into each forceful push. The smaller man choked on something – a moan, a sob, a cry. Mingi didn’t know which it had been.

“So pliant,” Mingi whispered, nipping the shell of Jongho’s ear. An ugly pride was knotting in his chest, pride at being the only one who got to see Jongho spread out and _raw_ like this, his name falling out of his mouth over and over again like some sort of chant.

Mingi tried not to feed that monster and instead focused on fucking Jongho just the way he liked, holding him against each snap of his hips and whispering how good he was into his ear. But having Jongho in a way no one else did was a power trip, heady and as dangerous as it was satisfying, and the monster continued to grow.

Jongho was beautiful, his eyes half-open and hair stuck to his forehead from the sweat. His lipstick was smeared, eyes watery and there were handprints on his thighs in places where Mingi had gripped him; and his t-shirt had ridden up, revealing a flat, but soft, stomach. Mingi relished the sight, the image committed to memory.

Jongho reached up, his fingers sliding into Mingi’s hair and bracelets tinkling near his ear, and pulled him down for a kiss. Mingi still was incapable of denying him anything, and one hand left Jongho’s hip to cup his face while he coaxed his boyfriend’s teeth apart and licked into his mouth just as greedily as he had earlier. Jongho let him lead, content to be guided, and Mingi let himself get lost in the heat of Jongho’s mouth on his and the hands tangling in his hair.

He didn’t realize he’d stopped moving until the kiss was broken, Jongho panting for breath but also gazing up at Mingi with what seemed like a mix of a pout and a scowl. It was _cute_ , so cute that it seemed out of place but still managed to take Mingi’s breath away and his heart swell.

“You’re so beautiful,” Mingi breathed.

It was funny – how sexual things made Jongho flush, but telling him that he was beautiful was what would make him blush the darkest and most furiously. “Shut up,” he whined.

Mingi’s smile was the softest thing about him at that moment. “Never,” he proclaimed fondly, thumbing over Jongho’s cheek yet again. “I love you, and you’re gorgeous.”

The blush settled heavily and stayed, Mingi’s boyfriend refusing to meet his eyes out of what Mingi assumed was embarrassment. Mingi might have said something about it, and about how cute Jongho was, but his boyfriend shifted, and—oh.

Mingi was still balls-deep in him.

The larger man pulled out and shushed Jongho before he could say anything. “I just want to change positions, baby,” he promised. He sat down with his back against the headboard, Jongho shifting out of the way so he could center himself, and patted one of his thighs. “Come here.”

Jongho sat up and swung his leg over Mingi so he could straddle his thighs in a kneeling position, one of his hands wrapping around Mingi’s cock as he positioned himself to sink down on him. Mingi rested his hands on Jongho’s waist to help guide him, giving a gentle squeeze when Jongho shifted and started to move down.

Jongho remained seated for a few brief moments before he lifted himself up and lowered himself back down, starting off slowly. Mingi kept his hands on his boyfriend’s hips but was content to let him build the pace; Jongho didn’t spend much time working up to a faster pace anyway, taking it slow for only a brief period before his movements began to gain speed.

Mingi groaned Jongho’s name, rolling his hips up to meet his boyfriend as he dropped down. Jongho’s hands rested on Mingi’s shoulders, fingers slightly digging in as he bounced up and down, Mingi matching his rhythm with one of his own. His feet were planted on the bed so he could snap his hips up each time Jongho came down, driving hard into the spot that never failed to make his lover cry his name.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Mingi promised, grip firm on Jongho’s waist and his thrusts steady as they pistoned into the same spot, each one punctuated by Jongho’s gasped moans and cries of _Mingi_ and _harder_.

Legs shaking, Jongho gave up on riding him and Mingi gave up on holding back. He rolled them over, pressing Jongho back into the mattress and slamming into him with intensity and desire to finally cum. He pulled up one of Jongho’s knees and held him open, the anklets his boyfriend wore tinkling now that they had been pulled away from the sheets that had muffled them. If anything it spurred Mingi’s rough thrusts onward and fueled his desire, spitting into his gloved hand and wrapping it around Jongho’s neglected cock to jerk him off with the timing of his thrusts.

Jongho’s fingers were digging into Mingi’s shoulders again, the subtle pain bringing him even closer to the edge. Mingi grunted, a sound that was supposed to be Jongho’s name but came out as unintelligible noise. His movements were becoming erratic, losing their rhythm but increasing in intensity as he pushed Jongho over the edge.

His smaller lover’s expression as he came across his chest and the sensation of him tightening around him was what made Mingi come with a groan, painting Jongho’s insides and collapsing on top of him.

All was silent for a few moments, but…

“You’re _heavy_ ,” Jongho complained, and Mingi grumbled a protest, but pulled out and rolled off of him.

“...Also, you forgot to use a condom.”

Mingi grunted. “Heat of the moment. I was thinking about a different type of glove. Oh, and about that… what spurred this on?”

Jongho’s face flushed again. “Your gloves are just hot,” he mumbled.

Mingi grinned. “You think my gloves are hot?” he snickered, as he unzipped the gloves in question and peeled them off. They joined his coat on the floor.

“Don’t tease me,” Jongho whined.

“I’m not,” Mingi promised, sitting up to pull his turtleneck off over his head. The shirt landed on the growing pile on their bedroom floor, and he swung his legs over the side of the bed, stripping out of his pants and boxers as well. “It’s cute. You’re cute.”

“Oh, so _now_ you get naked,” Jongho grumbled, petulant. “Since you’re so mobile, you can clean us up.”

Standing up and stretching, Mingi snorted. “Don’t I always?” he asked, and Jongho just smiled; Mingi rolled his eyes. “Alright, princess. Shower, or towel?”

“Mmm… bath.”

And Jongho got his way, because Jongho always got his way.

**Author's Note:**

> Always wear a condom, kids. And.... don't finger someone while wearing leather gloves. Or jerk them off. Yeah.
> 
> Okay, let me die now. 
> 
> I swear my next work won't be filth! I owe one of my friends a fluffy mpreg story about WooSan so... yeah... ehehe see you next time!


End file.
